


Don't know how to keep you safe

by Jaskiers_BrokenLute



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Tired Jaskier | Dandelion, Worried Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, but nothing happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27143989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaskiers_BrokenLute/pseuds/Jaskiers_BrokenLute
Summary: Jaskier hasn't returned to their room yet, and Geralt is worried.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 3
Kudos: 178





	Don't know how to keep you safe

Geralt shot up from the bed for the third time since he'd begun internally fighting with himself over where Jaskier is. 

He'd stayed behind after his performance to have a few drinks, even asked Geralt to stay if he was up to it but ultimately ended up alone when Geralt decided to set the time aside to clean his armour, and re-organize his saddlebags, general up-keep that he hadn't had time for while they were on the road. 

The sun had barely started to set when Geralt retired to their room and left Jaskier to unwind downstairs, now it has been well-set beneath the horizon for hours.

It's not unlike the bard to drink for hours, flitting around the tavern between tables and striking up a conversation with anyone he deems interesting enough to approach, so there really is no reason he should be this worried. 

Before Jaskier and himself had gotten together officially, Geralt wouldn't have given his extended time downstairs a second thought, would probably be fast asleep by now.   
Except that they are, and all he can think of is Jaskier's reputation, what usually happens when he drinks too much in a tavern full of decently attractive, also semi-drunk people. 

The mental image of someone else taking Jaskier, his Jaskier, by the arm and leading him (as his insecurities supply: perfectly willing) to a room that isn't their own, laying him on the bed the way Geralt had so many times, taking from Jaskier what had been promised to Geralt; was raging through his mind like a wildfire. 

But Jaskier wouldn't do that to him, had said it himself that he didn't want anyone else now that he has Geralt, would never betray his trust in such away. Geralt wanted to believe that more than anything but he couldn't put the thought to rest. 

It kept him pacing and desperately trying to recall anyone downstairs Jaskier's gaze had lingered on or vice-versa, anyone who fit Jaskier's usual type, anyone who could have his lover shacked up with them. 

With a huff and no definite answer, he sat heavily on the bed, dropping his head into his hands, burying his fingers in his hair. 

As much as he didn't want to believe Jaskier would choose to bed someone else while Geralt was only rooms away, the thought was infinitely preferable to him not choosing it, to someone bigger and stronger, sober, manipulating Jaskier unwillingly into their bed. He couldn't stand the thought of someone forcing themselves onto Jaskier, taking something that should only ever be given freely and enthusiastically. 

It made him see red, prepared to kill anyone who dared lay a single unwanted finger on Jaskier. 

He'd seen it before, just touches or disgusting words thrown at Jaskier by greedy men and spoiled women, people who thought Jaskier's overly friendly attitude as an invitation for wandering hands and exclamations of how much prettier he'd be on his knees. 

Jaskier always stopped Geralt before he could remove the hands of people who couldn't keep them to themselves, saying it's not worth it to let people see him as a butcher again over something so trivial as if Jaskier isn't worth fighting for. He'd take every rotten word humanity could throw at him over seeing Jaskier in pain. 

He could never deny Jaskier anything, but he wouldn't be able to hold back if his fears were true and playing out just below him while he was sat here simply worrying about it but doing nothing to prevent it. 

The thought itself was enough to have him out the door, swords strapped to his back, and ready to end anyone with their hands on his bard. 

He stomped down the stairs, a stone of fear in his stomach as his eyes scanned over the people left in the tavern. There was a smaller crowd than what had been in his imagination, most people completely out of it from alcohol, a few small parties of people simply chatting over their mostly empty tankards, and in the very corner he and Jaskier were sharing at the beginning of the night, was Jaskier; dead asleep with his head on the table, right hand still loosely curled around the handle of an empty cup and a line of drool connecting him to the table. 

Geralt froze where he was standing as relief flooded through him. Jaskier is okay and was only late to bed because he'd fallen asleep where he was sat, apparently alone for the majority of the night. 

He couldn't fight the small smile that grew on his face as he took in the sight before him, Jaskier's hair was mussed at the top where he'd been running his hands through it, splayed over his eyes, just barely brushing his cheekbones. His face is pliant and still flushed due to his drunken state. It still amazed Geralt, that despite the situation, Jaskier always looks beautiful. 

It didn't look terribly comfortable, however, hunched over the table, his back would certainly be sore tomorrow if he stayed there for the night. 

Carefully, as not to wake him, though he figured that with how much Jaskier had drunk such a task would be impossible anyway. He placed his hand gently as possible on Jaskier's best to lift him into a sitting position, the other hand on the back of Jaskier's neck so his head wouldn't loll back once he was sat up straight.

Sitting, it was much easier to get one of his arms behind Jaskier's shoulder and another under his knees, hoisting him up slowly so he was laying in his arms, head rested against Geralt's shoulder and arms limp on his own chest. 

In his sleep Jaskier shifted closer to Geralt, almost as if he were trying to roll over but couldn't due to the restrictions of Geralt's arms, settling with pressing his head deeper into Geralt's shoulder.

When they reached the room, Geralt laid him down on the bed, removed his boots, doublet, and trousers, leaving him in his chemise and pants, tucking him carefully under the covers. 

He felt better having Jaskier safe in the room with him but still couldn't shake the idea that Jaskier could have been in trouble and he'd have waited for hours before doing anything.   
Today he was wrong but what if he isn't tomorrow, next season, while they had to be separated for weeks on end, all the times Geralt couldn't be there. 

Looking now Jaskier is truly so fragile, human. His life is already short as it is, something or someone could be cruel enough to make him suffer, to take him before he's grown grey with age.

Geralt knows realistically he won't always be there to make sure monsters, people, or destiny keep their hands away from Jaskier. He can't protect him. 

For now, all he can do is slip silently into bed, wrap his arms around his bard and hold him close, and swear to be there while he still can, for the rest of Jaskier's life and every moment after.


End file.
